


Out with the old, in with the new, cheers to the future, and all that we do

by Poutini



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, David Rose Can Cook, Experimentation in and out of the kitchen, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous statistical analysis, Gratuitous tracking of data, M/M, New Year's Resolutions, Oral Sex, Rimming, Spreadsheet included for tracking purposes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poutini/pseuds/Poutini
Summary: Patrick hums thoughtfully.  “Travel would be nice.  We should look at putting money away.  Maybe we can close between Christmas and New Year’s next year and go somewhere.”David nods against Patrick’s chest.  “You know, if we ate out less…”Patrick feigns shock.  “David Rose!  Are you suggesting - ““Oh no.  I am not cooking.”“Come on, David.  This could be fun.  Once a week. That alone could cover airfare for one.”“Mmm!  Fun.  Right.”“I tell you what.  You cook on Fridays, and I’ll reward you.”This is not a WIP, but a weekly update with standalone chapters.Inspired in part by Samwhambam's seriesThe Rose-Brewer Guide to Sex Positions.To be published on Fridays.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 304
Kudos: 372





	1. December 30, 2020

The view from the picture window is perfect. Large snowflakes are falling slowly, sparkling on the ground where they land, illuminated by the twinkle of lights woven artfully through the hedges. The burning pine logs keep the room warm and smelling festive, and there’s nowhere Patrick would rather be than curled up on the couch, with his husband tucked into his side scrolling mindlessly on his phone. 

Patrick presses a kiss to David’s hairline, holding it just long enough to inhale deeply the sage and sandalwood scent of his husband’s shampoo. “Got any new year’s resolutions, baby?” he murmured, brushing his cheek against David’s soft hair. 

David shifts in Patrick’s arms and burrows his face into the crook of Patrick’s neck. Patrick feels David’s warm lips trail lazy kisses up from his collarbone to behind his ear. With a gentle nip to Patrick’s earlobe, David whispers “ _only sexy ones, honey_ ” before settling back down against Patrick’s chest. He clears his throat. “And travel. You?”

Patrick hums thoughtfully. “Travel _would_ be nice. We should look at putting money away. Maybe we can close between Christmas and New Year’s next year and go somewhere.”

David nods against Patrick’s chest. “You know, if we ate out less…”

Patrick feigns shock. “David Rose! Are you suggesting - “

“Oh no. I am  _ not _ cooking.”

“Come on, David. This could be fun. Once a week. That alone could cover airfare for one.”

“Mmm! _Fun_. Right.”

“I tell you what. You cook on Fridays, and I’ll reward you.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“I have a few questions.”

“How many of them are about the reward?”

“Most of them. Like, what is the nature of this reward, and how clothed will we be?”

“Depends on how good of a cook you are, baby.”

David extricates himself from Patrick’s chest with a groan, plucking their empty mugs off the coffee table on his way to the kitchen to tidy up.

Patrick busies himself on the laptop, organizing a master spreadsheet. When done, he  copies the Google Sheet link and sends it to David. He hears a scoff in the kitchen - “Really, Patrick?  _ Rainbow? _ ” and then a squawk “It starts THIS Friday? That’s two days away!”

Patrick opens up a bookmarked site in an incognito browser, and starts scrolling.

“Better start planning, David!” 


	2. Friday, January 1, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that Patrick has provided view-only access to the spreadsheet [here](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1KQrlPVNznTjA_JAYkRYKRE8WKLG7HCwch2124N4SKPg/edit?usp=sharing). Links to dinner recipes and sexual positions, as well as ratings and statistical analysis are included. 
> 
> Please note that the aggregate scores have a note attached (hover over the corner tag) to read the calculation methodology, and that no paired-sample t-tests will be run until a sufficient amount of data has been collected.

Patrick snakes his arms around David’s waist from behind, and presses his cold cheek against his husband’s warm shoulder as he squeezes tight. “Smells amazing, baby, what is it?”

David dips the wooden spoon in just deep enough to coat the tip. He blows on it before turning in Patrick’s arms, and offering a taste. “Just a basic spaghetti sauce. I know the carrots are an odd addition, but we had some in the pantry and - “

“And you know how it turns me on when you use stuff up,” Patrick finishes, licking his top lip. “That’s delicious. How long until we eat?”

“Mmm. Twenty?”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go shower and warm up.”

Sixteen minutes later, Patrick is back, pink and warm, having showered away the chill from clearing the driveway. While David finishes plating dinner, Patrick lights a candle and pours wine from the decanter. He sits and waits while his husband removes his apron, hangs it on the hook, and brings two steaming plates of pasta to the table. Patrick leans into it when David kisses his temple. “Buon appetito,” David whispers cheekily, taking his own place at the table. 

Patrick knows David is waiting until he takes the first bite. He winds the spaghetti carefully around his fork, like Grandma Brewer taught him, and brings it to his mouth. It’s...really, really good. Like, really good, especially considering the short notice with which David pulled this off. The pasta is perfectly al dente, and the spices balance in a way that allows Patrick to individually identify paprika, basil, and oregano. This gets a snort and a laugh from David. “Oh, Patrick has a sophisticated palate!” he intones nasally. But David can’t help but agree that he did well, and they slurp their noodles and sip their wine in companionable silence. 

Bellies full with the last remnants of the half-litre of wine in their glasses, they move to the couch to digest. The only sound is the fire licking across the logs in the fireplace. 

As their wine glasses empty, the distance between them closes, and soon, the glasses have been set aside on the coffee table, and David has curled up like a cat under Patrick’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. 

Patrick can feel the smirk across David’s lips where they ghost across his neck.“So, what’s my reward?”

“Did you not check the spreadsheet? I updated it this morning.”

David scrambles to grab his phone, clicking on the shared link. Patrick watches as David’s face journeys from impatience to curiosity to flush with anticipation.

“Oh, I see,” he manages to croak out.

Patrick takes the phone from David’s hand and places it securely on the side table. He comes to straddle David, swinging one leg up and over his lap. David tries to pull him down, bring their bodies flush, but Patrick resists. He cups both sides of David’s face, kisses him forcefully, and then withdraws, causing David to whine in protest.

“Thanks for dinner, baby. Do you want top or bottom tonight?” Patrick brushes a few wayward curls back behind David’s ear, while David considers his options. His lips return to centre from their quirk to the side. “Top,” he says slowly.

Patrick kisses him sweetly. “Ok, baby. Go get the lube.” He climbs off David, off the couch, and offers a hand to his husband, pulling him to standing, swatting his ass and sending him on his way to the bedroom.

By the time David gets back, Patrick is sitting spread-eagle on a strategically placed towel on the couch, wearing only his boxer briefs. He’s got one arm draped over the back of the couch, and is cupping his balls with the other hand, his thumb tracing circles over his growing erection.

“Jesus, Patrick,” David breathes out on an exhale. He’s swapped out his own clothes for his plush robe, and nothing underneath. The sash is tied so loosely that most of David’s chest is exposed, and Patrick can’t help but let go of himself and make grabby hands, pulling David on top of him.

Patrick slides his hands under the robe, up David’s flank, over his pecs, and all the way down from his shoulders to his elbows, taking the robe with off. He rakes his fingers through David’s chest hair, stopping for a quick pinch of each nipple, making David’s back arch into the sensation. They kiss languidly, swapping lips for necks and ears, David slowly grinding his erection down into Patrick’s lap, but it really doesn’t take long before it’s not enough, and David is sliding to the floor, taking Patrick’s dampened underwear with him.

He tugs Patrick’s hips to the edge of the couch and swiftly takes him in his mouth right down to the root. He bobs up and down a few times, hands-free, while he cracks open the lube.

He traces two fingers around Patrick’s ass, teasing with a light touch, and it’s Patrick’s turn to whine.

His whine changes to a keening moan when David slides his slippery fingers in to the knuckle, crooking them slightly, finding and pressing up against Patrick’s prostate. He lets Patrick’s cock spring free so he can concentrate on fingering Patrick open, and Patrick gets lost in the sensation of David’s nimble fingers working in and out.

When he feels relaxed and ready, Patrick taps David’s wrist, and he slowly withdraws his fingers. He’s tempted to just let David fuck him into the couch where he lies and it takes all his willpower to stand up and move around to the back of the couch.

Patrick perches himself there, and David moves in close. David’s warm and soft hands grip Patrick’s hips, holding him steady while Patrick lifts himself and walks his feet up David’s torso until he can hook them over David’s shoulder. David’s hands move to the globes of Patrick’s ass.

“Ready?” he asks, and Patrick nods. David leans in for a quick kiss, before standing up straight and lining his cock up with Patrick’s entrance. Patrick feels him push in slowly. It’s actually a little like the swing they installed in their bedroom last Christmas, with Patrick’s pelvis suspended in the air. Once fully seated, David gives him a moment to adjust.

“Okay, baby, move.”

David starts thrusting, and Patrick’s arms burn from the effort of holding himself up and giving enough resistance to David’s movement, but holy hell, this position is really lighting him up, and by the look on David’s face, it’s working for him, too.

Patrick sees David look between Patrick’s erection bobbing between them, to his hands bracing on the back of the couch, to his own hands supporting Patrick’s lower body and his brow furrows adorably.

“What...how...?”

Patrick laughs. “Didn’t really think of that...”

David snaps his hip, driving in each word. “Guess I’ll have to get creative.”

Patrick tips his head back, closing his eyes, listening to the slap of sex-slick skin and his husband’s rising crescendo. David’s fingers dig into Patrick’s skin as his orgasm washes over his body. Before any or all of their limbs give out, David slowly draws out of Patrick and gently lowers his legs to the ground. Patrick feels a little like a baby deer, his inability to walk properly or stand up straight momentarily pulling focus from his desperate cock.

David helps him back to the front of the couch, where he flops back onto the towel. David pulls on his robe and ties it tight eliciting a huff of laughter from Patrick.

“What? I’m cold!”

“You’re ridiculous. Now make me come.” Patrick cants his hips up enthusiastically emphasizing his point.

David sinks down to the floor between Patrick’s knees. “Gladly.”


	3. Friday, January 8, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spreadsheet located [here](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1KQrlPVNznTjA_JAYkRYKRE8WKLG7HCwch2124N4SKPg/edit?usp=sharing).

“So, I looked at the spreadsheet,” David says, setting Patrick’s tea down on the counter. “And I hope you know you’re the top tonight.”

Patrick bites back a laugh. “Well, David, there isn’t really a  _ top _ per se.”

David stares him down. “You know what I mean.”

///

Dinner is tasty, even with the rice being a little undercooked. David’s evident mastery of al dente pasta apparently does not translate to an understanding of how to properly cook rice. 

The saving grace is the sharpness of the cheese from Heather Warner’s farm, and the fragrant cilantro from the window-box herb garden David had started at the first sight of frost. Patrick assures David that dinner was fine, but David is still pouting, half an hour after the dishes were cleared, and they’re settled on the couch. 

He knows he should just let it go - not every culinary adventure is going to be an automatic masterpiece - but it had been a long, slow week, with school back in session and the typical post-holiday slump settling in, and David just really needed a relaxing Friday night with a good meal. 

David also knows he can’t hide his disappointment from his husband, no matter how hard he tries, so it’s no surprise when Patrick rises as soon as David’s wine glass is empty, extending a hand to tug David upstairs to the bedroom. 

Having learned from last week, David had checked the spreadsheet earlier in the day, and studied the position from every angle. It looked suspiciously like exercise...but even Patrick made exercise look appealing, and by the time Patrick had pulled David’s sweater over his head, the mediocre-at-best stuffed peppers were long since forgotten. 

David flops down on the bed, expecting Patrick to get into position, but instead, Patrick straddles his hips, presses his chest against David’s and brackets David’s head with his forearms. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, kissing David gently.

“Hi,” David replies, nipping at Patrick’s bottom lip. David gestures with his hand “Aren’t you gonna…”

“Mmm! Yep. But not yet!”

And with that, Patrick scoots down David’s body until he can reposition himself between David’s legs. David feels Patrick knock his knees against David’s, wedging his legs open. 

“What are you doing?” David asks gently.

“Taking my time,” Patrick says simply, kissing the inside of David’s thighs, where the skin is supple and covered with dark hair. “I want to finish you with tonight’s position.”

Oh. Well, David is very much on board with that. He interlaces his fingers behind his head and watches as Patrick kisses his way up from David’s knee to his inner thigh, stopping just shy of the crease at his hip. David arches into it, and Patrick just laughs gently, moving back down and doing the same on the other side. David’s hard now. So hard. Desperate for Patrick to touch him, put his mouth on him, anything. But Patrick’s focused on building the tension with his soft lips and featherlight fingertips. Those damn fingers - wherever they trace sears into David’s skin, and the pressure building in his groin is becoming unbearable. 

“[Please, Patrick](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534530),” he whines. 

There’s a flash of recognition in Patrick’s eyes of a moment long since passed. With heat in his eyes, Patrick swallows David’s cock straight to the root. With his nose firmly pressed into David’s groin, he licks up the underside, maintaining suction, and swallowing a couple of times for good measure. It’s nearly enough to push David over the edge. He runs his fingers through Patrick’s hair, thankful for the curls that Patrick allowed to grow out after the wedding. He tugs lightly, and the vibrations of Patrick’s moan ricochet through David’s body. 

“Close!” he gasps. “So close, fuck!”

Patrick pulls off with a pop, and without hesitation, arranges himself lengthwise along David’s body, his knees near David’s shoulder, giving David access to Patrick’s cock. In a push-up position, Patrick starts pistoning his mouth on David’s cock. David tries on the downstroke to catch Patrick’s erection, but he fails most of the time, lost in the sensation of Patrick’s mouth, but also the visual of his husband’s damn triceps working to do push-up after push-up. It doesn’t take long - a fact for which Patrick will be grateful, David’s sure - before he’s coming, spilling over himself and a little on Patrick as he lowers himself onto David one last time. He takes David’s spasming cock into his mouth, gently suckling as David’s orgasm subsides and his twitches move into overstimulation. 

Carefully, Patrick lowers himself to the bed, still sideways, his still-hard cock pressing into David’s hip. He thrusts into David’s hip. “A little help here?” he asks pitifully. 

David rolls onto his side lazily, taking his husband’s erection into his mouth. “Glffddly,” he says with a mouthful of cock. 


	4. Friday, January 15, 2021

There’s something so comforting about coming home after a long day at work to a house filled with the aroma of something delicious in the crockpot.

There’s something delicious about coming home after a long day of work to find David Rose in the kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron and a pair of lacy, black boxer briefs, his lips on the edge of a wooden spoon, quirked up in a seductive smile. 

Patrick lets out an undignified sound at the sight. “Smells amazing,” he squeaks. “What is it?”

David returns the wooden spoon to its rest. “Chicken tortilla soup. Spicy.”

Patrick moves into David’s space. “I’ll say,” he says with a wink.

David kisses Patrick lightly. Too lightly. Teasingly lightly. Patrick pouts when David pulls back. “Ten minutes, honey. Go get changed.”

By the time Patrick has changed into a pair of joggers and a comfy tee and returned to the kitchen, David has served bowls of soup, and sour cream, cheese, tortilla strips and Cholula sauce are on the table. 

Patrick tries, unsuccessfully, to kiss David with a bit more heat, and it makes him whine. He knows,  _ knows _ , what David is doing, and  _ fuck _ , it’s working. He adjusts himself in his pants as he sits at the table. 

The soup is  _ delicious _ . It’s a perfect meal for a cold January day, and it’ll make great leftovers for lunch. The sour cream cuts the heat, and the corn tortilla strips compliment the flavours perfectly. Patrick devours his dinner in a matter of moments, and is tempted to lick the bowl clean. 

David grabs his bowl before he gives in to the temptation, bending down to nip Patrick’s left ear gently, on his way to the sink. 

Patrick ogles his husband’s ass, and the way David takes a stilted step, shifting his hip slightly makes Patrick’s cheeks flush with desire.  _ Holy shit _ . He gets up from the table, closing the distance between them, wrapping his arms around David’s aproned waist from behind. 

“David,” he murmurs, kissing the patch of freckles on David’s right shoulder blade. Patrick lightens his grip, and slides his hands down to the globes of David’s ass when David turns to face him. The way David gasps when Patrick squeezes and pulls David closer.  _ Yes _ . 

Patrick pulls David’s cheeks apart ever so slightly, and drags his fingers down the crack of his ass.  _ Oh god _ . They hadn’t yet talked about who was top or bottom tonight, but it appears David has his mind made up. 

“ _ David _ ,” Patrick murmurs against David’s lips. He chases David’s lips when David breaks the kiss, tipping his neck back, exposing an expanse of skin that needs attention. Patrick kisses up from David’s collarbone to the lobe of his ear, pulling his husband closer until he can feel David’s erection pressing against his hip. The friction makes David groan in the most satisfying way. 

“Where?” Patrick ghosts against David’s skin.

“Right here.”

Patrick directs David to turn around, and David complies, moving them forward until they’re near enough to the dining room for David to snag a chair. Patrick watches as David bends over and braces himself on the chair. He wiggles his ass enticingly as Patrick lines up behind him. 

From an apron pocket, David fishes out some lube and passes it to Patrick. Patrick leaves it on the dining room table as he tugs David’s lace underwear to one side and gently shimmies the plug out of David’s ass. Patrick groans as he watches David fight to keep himself open. David knows how much Patrick loves the way David’s body gapes with desperate absence as it waits to be made complete once again. 

Patrick grabs the lube and coats himself. Keeping David’s lace underwear to the side, he is easily able to enter in one smooth slide. 

The way David is bent in half in front of him is a vision. As Patrick thrusts, he can feel the scratch of the lace against his skin, and it drives him wild. After three years, David still surprises him. Keeps him on his toes. Makes things special. Turns him on like he’s a fucking teenager. 

From this position, David is able to counter-thrust, increasing the depth Patrick’s cock can reach. He knows David likes to test how far he can take Patrick inside him, and the way he clenches drives Patrick closer and closer to the edge, far quicker than Patrick had expected.

With one hand steadying himself on the small of David’s back, and the other teasing under the black lace of David’s boxer briefs, Patrick comes, waves of pleasure ebbing over him as he empties himself in his husband. 

He collapses over David’s back. Presses kisses to his spine, and lets out a deep sigh of satisfaction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright.  
> Here comes the honesty (sorry Ol'Reid).  
> The kudos to hits ratio on this one is _depressing_. I get that a lot of folks wait until a "WIP" is complete before giving their final thumbs up, but this isn't a WIP in the sense that there is an expectation of some sort of storyline continuity.  
> I really struggled to finish this chapter, and even contemplated this being the end of the fic as a whole, because it just felt like it was falling flat. To be honest, this may still happen. Because even though it's not all about the validation, let's be real, the validation matters, and having 400 hits accumulate with a handful of additional kudos and comments kind of feels like I made you a meal you either didn't like, or you ate without thanks, and sustaining the energy to keep doing so for the _remainder of 2021 is_ **a lot**.  
> So, if you're here, and you liked this, give a potato a sign of life? If you think this might turn weird and not be something you'd like your name attached to as a public kudos, then a comment is great - you can always delete it if this goes sideways.  
> Best wishes and warmest regards.


	5. Friday, January 22, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First - thank you for all the lovely feedback, both here and on the tumblr, after last week's chapter. 
> 
> Second - I am ACTUALLY making this soup tonight. But the broth is definitely from a carton.

Thursday, Patrick comes home after his late-night beer league hockey game to a steam-filled kitchen that smells divine. An  _ empty _ kitchen that is. 

“David?” he calls questioningly down the hall. No response.

He drops his keys on the counter and heads upstairs. There’s his beautiful husband, sound asleep on their bed, looking cozy in Patrick’s hoodie - the one he wore when he proposed - and a pair of comfy joggers. His hair is wild, having been left to dry naturally after a shower, and his normally expressive features are peacefully at rest. Patrick’s heart clenches at the sight reserved only for him. David, edges softened. So soft he’d octopus himself around Patrick without breaking unconsciousness, if Patrick would just crawl on the bed beside him. 

Instead, he kneels beside the bed and cards a hand through those soft curls. “Baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his temple. “What’s going on in the kitchen? Do I need to do anything?”

David blinks his eyes open slowly. His lips curl into a smile. “Nuh-uh,” he replies groggily, “s’just broth in the crockpot. Fr’tomorrow.” 

"You made broth from scratch?”

David hums happily, leaning into Patrick’s touch like a cat. “Mmhmm. I’ve been saving scraps, and some produce was on the fringe of being unfit for sale.”

Patrick is suitably impressed. He smooths a thumb over David’s right eyebrow, realigning the short hairs gone squirrelly while David slept. “You’re incredible,” he whispers against his husband’s temple. 

“You’re smelly,” David whispers back, burrowing under the blankets. “Go shower and come to bed.”

///

There’s nothing special about Friday. It’s blessedly routine, from the moment David and Patrick wake up, through their day at the store, and their drive home. 

It’s unseasonably warm, though rainy, and by the time they’re pulling into the driveway, it’s fully dark, and feels more like an October evening, than mid-January. The damp air sends a chill through their bones just from the short walk in from the driveway, and Patrick is excited to see what David is going to do with the slow-simmered broth. 

It comes together surprisingly quickly. Leeks, shredded chicken from a rotisserie chicken picked up on the way home, fresh herbs and garlic and rice. Ladled into bowls, topped with a tiny bit of harissa, and a fresh baguette and butter in the centre of the table. 

“You know,” Patrick says, part way through his first helping, “we might never buy pre-made broth ever again.”

David raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Just think of the savings, David. I’m sure this would save enough to buy you some in-flight cocktails.”

Patrick knows it’s a convincing argument, knows David is thinking about it, when his husband just smiles as he eats another spoonful. 

After two bowls of soup each, they find themselves crowded up against each other under a soft throw blanket on the couch. Patrick pulls up the spreadsheet to add scores for dinner. “I want to top tonight,” he says casually as he finishes with his phone. “With a twist,” he adds, setting his phone down on the coffee table and turning to face David. 

David’s looking at him with one brow quirked up and his signature smirk. “Go on.”

“Let’s go upstairs. It’ll be easier to show you.”

///

Perched on the end of the bed, Patrick watches with a bemused expression as David turns his phone around, considering the page of animated gifs. 

“Number 33,” Patrick supplies helpfully. “Bottom left.” David’s eyes scan lower, then widen. 

The position is  _ ambitious _ , that’s for sure. 

“So what’s the twist?”

Patrick scoots up the bed and opens the bottom drawer of the nightstand, pulling out their long, double-ended dong. “I want you to fuck me with this, while I fuck you.”

David’s eyes widen even further, and his mouth drops open. “I see,” he manages to sputter. 

Patrick hops off the bed, tossing the dong next to his husband. He starts to undo the buttons of his shirt. David doesn’t move, but his eyes follow Patrick’s hands as they reach the bottom of the shirt. Patrick shrugs it off his shoulders, and tugs his undershirt over his head. Seeing David still watching him, he runs his hands over his own chest, pausing over his left nipple, pinching it lightly between his thumb and forefinger. Patrick is pleased that the small moan he lets escape causes David to squirm, but still, he remains on the bed. 

While his right hand undoes his jeans, Patrick runs his left hand up the back of his neck, flexing his arm and chest. This move causes David to gasp. Patrick knows he looks good. He’s been going to the gym consistently for quite some time, and David hasn’t been shy about vocalizing his appreciation of Patrick’s physique. 

Patrick runs his hands down his sides, sliding under his boxer-briefs, in a final act to finish this impromptu strip-tease. Carefully, he draws the garment over his erection, letting it spring free. Hard, pink, with a tiny glisten at the tip. He watches as David appears to reach his breaking point, lunging forward, running his hands up and down the outside of Patrick’s thighs, and leaning in to swallow him deep. He grips Patrick’s cock around the base, holding him in place while he makes small strokes, and swirls around the sensitive underside with his tongue. 

Patrick scrabbles to pull David’s sweater over his head, necessitating David to break the seal on his cock for a moment. David grazes his bottom teeth gently against Patrick’s flesh as he draws back, and it makes Patrick hiss and wince with just the right amount of pleasure-pain. 

He pushes David onto his back and makes quick work of the remainder of David’s clothes. 

Straddling his husband, pinning him in place, his lips finally find David’s. Patrick slows down the frantic tempo with the kiss, refusing to give in to David’s whines for more, harder, faster. 

There’s  _ logistics _ with this position, and it requires some coordination. 

Eventually, after a few nips to his neck for good measure, David acquiesces to Patrick’s pace, settling into the bed, and letting Patrick lavish attention on his body with his hands and lips. 

When their breathing slows, Patrick dismounts off of David and goes to the opposite side nightstand. He pulls out a couple nitrile gloves, and the pump bottle of lube. Passing one glove to David, he dons the other himself. With a generous amount of lube applied, he starts prepping himself, raising an expectant eyebrow at David, who starts to do the same. 

Watching each other, several digits deep in their own ass, only serves to ramp up the anticipation, and it doesn’t take long before David is removing the glove, and has tossed a towel and a pillow on the floor. 

Patrick tries not to laugh as David not-so-gracefully arranges himself in the best replication of image number 33. Head and shoulders supported by the pillow, thoracic spine against the mattress and boxspring, ass up, and ready. 

Carefully, Patrick steps over him, facing away. He hands David the dong, coats his cock with lube, and sets the lube within David’s reach.

From up above, it’s easy for Patrick to sink into his husband in one go. The angle is  _ different _ . He can feel the head of his cock pressing up against the back wall of David’s body, and when David clenches, it’s tight in an unfamiliar way. The sensitive underside of Patrick’s cock can feel the slight rise in tissue as it grazes across David’s prostate, and it makes them both yelp the first time. Patrick uses his strong thighs to dip in and out of David a few times, before looking over his shoulder and checking in. 

Clearly, this new angle is also working for David. His eyes are dark, a little squinty, and his mouth slack. One hand is holding the base of his erection, and the other is gripping the dong. When he sees Patrick looking, his lips turn up into a smirk and he waves the dong around. “Ready?” 

Patrick nods, and immediately, he can feel the cool tip pressing against his body. It slips against his rim, before catching, and sliding in, and  _ holy shit _ , the sensation of being buried to the hilt in his husband, with a dong filling his ass is so intense he stops moving, his breath heaving. 

“Good?” David asks softly, stilling the dong.

Patrick’s response is choppy, halting words barely intelligible. “ _So good. David. Oh my god._ ”

He slowly starts moving again, trying to be present, to notice all the new sensations. David manages to time the dong perfectly to match Patrick’s downward thrusts, and with a slight turn of his wrist, the dong hits Patrick’s prostate. 

He sees stars. It hadn’t always been this way, and for a long time, Patrick thought he was broken. Everything he’d read about prostate orgasms, and floating, and waves after waves of pleasure made it seem so simple. But in reality, it had taken him nearly a year to recognize what was happening when David grazed up against, or put pressure, on the gland, and probably another six months before he felt comfortable enough to lean into the sensation and see where it went. But now.  _ Fuck _ . Patrick needed to hurry up and come, because his legs are rapidly turning to jello. 

He can hear David jacking himself enthusiastically behind him, and it only spurs him on. David’s orgasm hits him like a freight train, and the spasmodic arch in David’s back changes the angle again, and the new friction throws Patrick right over the edge. His hands fly out and he braces himself on the bed as David draws the last remnants of pleasure from him with a few drags in and out with the dong. 

Separating from each other also requires coordination. Something neither of them have much of at the moment, and so rather than risk injury, David slides his ass to the floor, leaving his legs bent over the bed, and Patrick lifts David’s arm, making space for himself to curl up on David’s chest. 

He presses a kiss to David’s collarbone. “See? You’re incredible,” he whispers, and David’s arms tighten around him. 


	6. Friday, January 29, 2021

“ _ Baby.” _

…

“ _ Baby, wake up.” _

…

A warm pair of lips affix themselves to the hollow of David’s neck.

“ _ Baby, I need you.”  _ Warm breath ghosting on David’s skin causes goosebumps. He slowly opens one eye. Patrick is so close, David’s eyes cross, and he draws his head back until his husband is in clear focus. Patrick is shirtless, a deep flush blossoming down his neck and spilling onto his chest. He’s a little sweaty, and when he leans back in to kiss David’s freckled shoulder, he smells a little musky, like he’d just finished a workout. Because he had. 

_ Right, because I married a crazy person,  _ David reminds himself as he slowly uncovers his upper half. 

As soon as David’s chest is bared, Patrick is on him. David kicks the blankets down to the foot of the bed, and Patrick moves to straddle him fully. David arches into his touch as Patrick paws at him as he nips and licks his way down David’s chest. 

“ _ I neeeed you,”  _ Patrick pants. He gets like this sometimes - exercise endorphins getting lost along the way to his brain, and ending up in his dick instead - and David loves it. 

As if he hadn’t just finished an intense workout, Patrick leaps (leaps!) off the bed and shucks his shorts. Before he climbs back onto the bed, he pulls David’s sleep pants down his long legs, over his feet, and tosses them over a nearby chair. David’s achingly hard already, and Patrick chuckles when his cock springs free. 

David scrambles to reach into the drawer to grab the lube. He digs around coming up unsuccessful. 

“Looking for this?” Patrick is holding the lube. His barely-there left eyebrow raised in his approximation of a smirk. 

Before David can answer, Patrick swings a leg over David’s lower half, and bracing himself with one hand on David’s shoulder, holds David’s erection in place and swiftly sinks down on him, taking David in one smooth slide. His breath is hot on David’s neck when he tips forward, pressing their chests together. He’s still a little sweaty, and there’s a tiny bit of David that thinks  _ ew _ , but then Patrick is fucking himself with wild abandon and David’s focus is pulled to Patrick’s cock bouncing in the small space separating their bellies. He maneuvers his arm between them, and wraps his hand around Patrick, who practically faceplants into David’s neck with a groan. 

“ _ I need you, David _ , _ ”  _ he whines again. 

David shifts under his husband until he has enough space to bend his knees and plant his feet on the bed. From there, he takes over, thrusting hard up into Patrick as his hand strokes him in time. Patrick stays buried in his neck, unintelligible sounds slipping from his lips as he mouths at David’s skin. David can only tell when Patrick is getting close by the way his sex drunk babble becomes frantic and his breathing turns harsh. He squeezes tighter, flicks his thumb where he knows his husband is the most sensitive, and a sharp jerk signals the start of his orgasm. A sharp jerk, then he freezes, gasping, moaning  _ David _ as David thrusts one, two, three more times into Patrick’s tight heat before he comes. 

When David straightens his legs, he slips out of Patrick. Patrick tips to the side, and curls up against David’s side. If there’s anything David loves more than a happy-hormone-horny-husband, it might be the affectionate fucked-out version of his husband, who plans sloppy kisses wherever he can reach, sighs happily, and wears a smile reserved only for these sort of moments. 

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for tonight,” Patrick mumbles into David’s side. “I still have a surprise for you.”

///

  
“It’s not healthy,” David cautions as he sets the last ceramic bowl down on the table. “But I’ve really had a craving for trashy nacho chips and accoutrements lately, and it turns out they’re way cheaper to make than to pick up from the cafe, so here we are.”

He sits down across from his husband, and passes him a small plate, mostly just to eat over to try and prevent drops of food or liquid cheese from falling on the table, or worse, the floor. 

Patrick scoops a chip into the queso dip and through the sour cream, using a spoon (“I’m not totally uncivilized, David.”) to add some seasoned ground bison to his bite. David watches as his husband shoves the entire chip in his mouth. He’d like to tell him how incorrect it is, but after three years, if Patrick hasn’t learned, it’s unlikely he’s going to change now. Besides, the moan that he lets out as he chews makes David even forget what he was thinking about. 

“Oh my god, David, this is so good,” Patrick says, repeating the process of topping a chip.

“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s Rotel tomatoes and Velveeta. Hard to go wrong with salty, spicy pseudo-cheese.”

David finally takes a bite for himself, and it is really, really good. Not something that can become a habit, however. Too much salt means water retention, too much water retention means too much time needed with the facial roller before he feels comfortable leaving the house.

They devour the nachos in no time, and sit back, overfull at the kitchen table. In that moment, David is thankful Patrick sat on his dick first thing in the morning, because he’s not so sure he could handle any sort of gastrointestinal turbulence after that meal, and by the looks of it, based on Patrick undoing the button his jeans, the feeling is mutual. 

David leans his elbows on the table, cupping his chin in his hands. “So, you said you have a present for me?”

Patrick gets up with a groan, stepping briefly into the livingroom. David hears him rustling around, and he returns with a box. 

“Is there a special occasion?” David asks with a shimmy, taking the box from Patrick. 

Patrick blushes, but shakes his head. “No, uh, just a Boxing Day sale that caught my attention.”

David gives the box a curious jiggle. He sets it down, and opens it up slowly, just to torture Patrick who is growing increasingly red. 

“Oh la la,” David teases as he grabs one end of what is obviously a sex toy. It becomes uncoiled as he pulls and pulls and pulls it out of the box, and it is really,  _ really _ , long. Now it’s David’s turn to blush. 

“Wh - What’s this?” he stammers.

Patrick reaches into the box and pulls out the leaflet.  [ _ The Slink _ ](https://www.fullkit.com/products/the-slink) .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to cook, but good god, I am a fan of trashy queso dip.
> 
> Also, I am so far behind in responding to comments, and for that, I apologize! But it truly comes down to either having time to write, or having time to respond...and I just really aspire to write the smut I want to see in the world, you know? But I do appreciate every comment, even strings of emojis!


	7. Friday, February 5, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take nothing more than the inspiration to do your own research when reading smutty-fic, friends!

Patrick’s near the back of the store, facing away from the door when the jingle of the bell announces someone’s arrival.

“So this says we’ve got about seven inches before it hits a bend,” his husband’s breathless voice announces. 

“David,” Patrick says, turning around “We’ve got - “

“And I should probably leave a little early to prepare, and we should probably do it before din -”

Patrick takes a step to the side so David can see the diminutive customer that had been hidden from view. 

“Oh,” David breathes out slowly. “Hi.”

“Hi. Maggie’s just asked if we have more of the plain soy candles. Do you want to go check?”

David looks at Maggie, who looks back at him with a smirk. “Yep,” he squeaks grateful for the opportunity to escape her judging eyes.

Patrick lets a small chuckle slip as he turns his attention back to Maggie.

///

By the end of the day, David appears to have gotten over the mortification of earlier events. He skips out on closing tasks to head home to “take care of business”, but Patrick doesn’t mind because it really does just go faster when he does it himself, without David, and David’s wandering hands and lips to distract. 

The house is dark when Patrick enters the front door. He drops his keys in the dish, kicks off his shoes, and calls out for his husband.

“Up here!” David responds.

Patrick climbs the stairs in twos, arriving in the bedroom a little breathless. As his eyes adjust to the low light, Patrick drinks in the sight of his husband lying on the bed waiting for him. David’s clearly recently showered, his hair damp, his olive skin still warm underneath his soft robe. 

Patrick quickly disrobes, leaving on nothing but his boxers, and crawls under the covers next to his husband. The heated mattress pad is on, and the warm flannel takes the winter chill out of Patrick’s bones. 

He burrows his cold nose into David’s hair. “Hi, baby.”

“Mmmm. Hi.” Patrick feels David shift, just enough so they can kiss properly. It starts sweet. But then David’s fingers tickle up and down Patrick’s sides, tweaking a nipple along the way, and the kiss turns filthy. Patrick lies flat as David straddles him, letting his robe fall off his freckled shoulders. His back arches as David kisses his neck, sucking a deep bruise in the hollow of Patrick’s collarbone, where it will be barely concealed by a button up. David’s lips trail further south as he shuffles back, until he’s pinning Patrick’s knees. Patrick lifts his hips the best he can, as David pulls his boxers down, letting Patrick’s cock spring free. 

There’s an  _ urgency _ to David’s touch as he wraps a hand around the base of Patrick’s cock, and he tips forward to take the remainder in his mouth. The wet heat makes Patrick moan, and David responds with a moan of his own, all vibrations on Patrick’s sensitive skin. For a moment, Patrick thinks he needs David to slow down, that this is all gonna be over so fast, and then he remembers.  _ The Slink _ . Tonight is the night. He shivers in anticipation. So ready to play with their new toy. Just the thought of those 18 inches disappearing into his husband’s body is enough to make Patrick come with a shout, and to whimper as David gentles him through the aftershocks with his mouth, making sure Patrick is clean before pulling off completely. 

David flops next to Patrick on the bed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Patrick just needs a moment to catch his breath, before he’s surging forward to kiss David, and direct him to lie on his stomach. 

Patrick retrieves a glove and lube from the nightstand. He runs a soothing hand down David’s back, before donning the glove, and pouring a generous amount of lube down the crack of David’s ass, and coating his index and middle fingers. 

Two fingers slide in with no resistance, and Patrick works quickly and efficiently to be able to add a third. He scissors his fingers, feeling David relax around them, before tucking his thumb and pinky in close and teasing David with all five. He doesn’t push past the widest part of his hand, though they’ve done this before, and he loves to watch as his whole hand is swallowed up by his husband’s body. No, tonight is for something new. 

Satisfied that David is relaxed and ready, he coaxes him up onto his knees, braced on his elbows. Hopping off the bed to toss the glove, Patrick pulls the slink from the velvet bag in the nightstand. He kisses David’s left ass cheek before he ducks into the bathroom to give it a wash. 

As he runs his hand up and down all 18 inches of the toy, he remembers [the first time he had a curious thought about depth play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741611/chapters/70695444#workskin). He didn’t really even know it was a  _ thing _ . He just looked at how David’s body gaped when he fingered him, and wondered how much David’s body could take. How deep he could go. What it would feel like. 

He gently towel dries the toy and carries it back to the bed. David looks over his shoulder at Patrick, his eyes are dark with lustful anticipation. 

Patrick leaves the toy near the foot of the bed and drapes himself over his husband. He kisses the nape of David’s neck. “Tell me everything,” he murmurs. David nods. 

The first six inches of the Slink slide into David’s body with ease. But now they’re approaching David’s researched seven inch landmark for where some more gentle maneuvering is required, so Patrick slows down, drawing the toy out and gliding it back in a few times, before carefully pushing forward in tiny increments.  _ Ah, there it is _ . He meets with resistance enough to stop. 

They’d talked about this ahead of time and now it’s up to David’s body to decide whether it will let them go further. Patrick applies gentle force to the toy, David takes deep breaths, and they wait to see if the ring of muscle will relax. “ _ No pressure, baby, _ ” Patrick assures his husband, as David concentrates on a slow inhale and exhale. After what seems like an eternity, but was realistically less than five minutes, Patrick feels David’s body give and the toy slip easily two inches deeper. They both gasp - Patrick in surprise, and David, experiencing deep penetration for the first time.

“How is it?” Patrick asks, holding the Slink gently in place. 

David’s head drops to the bed with a groan. “S’so good. More? Please?”

Patrick looks at the toy in his hand. They’re really only about halfway in. Another nine or so inches. It’s  _ a lot _ , and Patrick is really glad David sucked him off before this because his body is making a valiant, but futile, attempt at getting back in the game.

Patrick adds more lube to the Slink and resumes feeding it into David’s hole. David’s breath is coming out in little gasps, punctuated with  _ oh god _ s and  _ it’s so good, don’t stop _ , and to everyone’s surprise and delight, soon the flared base is against David’s body.  _ Holy shit _ .

“David,” Patrick breathes out on the exhale. “Oh my god.”

This new territory is a little nerve-wracking and neither of them are really sure how David’s body is going to react to the lengthy intrusion as David reaches down between his legs and starts to stroke himself. So it’s agreed upon that David will bring himself to orgasm, and so long as all goes well and without discomfort, Patrick will slowly draw the Slink out as David comes. 

Patrick can tell David is getting close, but he waits for David to tell him when to start removing the toy. 

“ _ Now!”  _ David chokes out, and Patrick slowly extracts the Slink, inch by torturously smooth inch, with David’s orgasm slamming into him with about ten inches left in his body. Patrick doesn’t stop until the tapered end slips out of David’s body, the loss making David shudder. 

David flops over onto his back, boneless. His eyes are closed, but he’s smiling. Patrick tosses the slink on the towel on the floor, and curls into David’s side. 

“So what’s for dinner?” he asks. 

“Mmmm. Grilled cheese.”

“Fancy.”

“Just you fucking wait.”


	8. Friday, February 12, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so David's texts here are a recreation of actual texts I sent to Mr Potato when I made this recipe about five years ago.

David Rose  
  
**Today** 7:15 PM  
Patrick.  
  
I think I ruined the chilli  
  
You might need to pick up pizza on your way home  
  
**Today** 7:47 PM  
No wait maybe it’s ok  
  
**Today** 8:13 PM  
omg I am a culinary genius  
  
this is the best chilli I’ve ever had in my life and that includes the time Alexis was dating the guy who owned Bush’s Beans  
  
**Today** 8:29 PM  
holy shit seriously it was so bitter when I added the beer but this is so fucking good  
  
**Today** 8:48 PM  
Wow...you went on quite the journey  
  
I’m on my way home  
  
xo  
  


Twenty five minutes later, Patrick drops his hockey bag in the mudroom, strips off his coat, and pops into the kitchen for a perfunctory kiss. He knows David holds his breath, the stench of hockey gear only something a parent can endure. 

Once a safe olfactory distance away, he calls out “Are we still on?”

David nods as he samples the simmering chilli. “Mmmhmm. I’ll meet you in the guest shower?” 

Patrick knows he needs a head start. With a lot of body wash and some fragrant shampoo. “Gimme ten.” 

///

The guest shower is a lot smaller than the luxurious space they had built into the master ensuite. But for the purposes of what Patrick has picked out tonight, it’s a necessity that they have a confined space - one where Patrick’s feet can reach the opposite wall, if his back is pressed up against one side. 

He takes his time soaping up, enjoying the hot water as it runs over his aching muscles. He’s loath to admit that his age is showing, but damn, he can’t keep up with some of the boys on the ice, and his legs are tired and sore. He washes his hair quick, not so secretly hoping David will want to indulge himself, tangling his fingers in Patrick’s curls, scratching lightly at his scalp. Patrick had first discovered how much he loved the feeling of being taken care of in this way when he sprained his wrist a year ago, and it was in a cast, pending x-rays to confirm nothing was broken, and David had taken to ensuring Patrick’s personal hygiene was kept up to snuff. He snags the bottle of lube he’d left just outside the shower, and starts to work himself open. Two fingers to start, three sliding in easily, making room for his husband. 

Predictably, David slides into the shower, shivering slightly. Patrick makes room for him under the hot spray, and David tilts his head back, a pleased smile on his lips. Patrick’s hands find their way to David’s hips, and David’s wind around Patrick’s neck. Patrick waits until David lowers his head and opens his eyes before he leans in and captures his husband’s lips in a kiss. He nips at David’s lower lip before mouthing his way down his jaw and behind his ear. 

“Missed you,” Patrick murmurs against David’s neck, kissing the spot that he’s long since claimed as his very own. 

He feels David hum contentedly, and his arms tighten to pull Patrick closer. 

Though there’s a couple inches height difference, they just fit. With warm skin pressed together, lips wandering and dicks that were already interested, it doesn’t take long before they’re both hard, and chasing friction against each other. Patrick backs up against the tile wall, knowing this is the tricky part. 

He feels David’s strong hands grab his ass, hoisting him up as he plants his feet on the opposite wall, using it as leverage. He feels surprisingly stable, tension held between the two surfaces. 

David lubes up his erection and lines himself up with Patrick’s entrance, meeting no resistance as he slides in, and the feeling of David bottoming out inside of him makes Patrick groan, and David grin. 

He feels David shift slightly, maneuvering so his shoulders are against the wall, in between Patrick’s feet. Braced there, he starts thrusting into Patrick. 

The hot water is still pouring over them, and in that moment Patrick says a silent prayer of thanks they invested in a tankless water heater, knowing they have quite some time before the temperature runs cold. The water on their bodies only increases the obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin, and the small space of the shower amplifies their gasps,  _ oh gods _ , and choked-off versions of each others’ names. 

David comes first, and the way his legs turn to jello means he needs to gently transition Patrick back to standing on his own two feet. Conveniently, jello legs are conducive, then, to sliding onto his knees, gripping Patrick’s hips, and holding him in place as he swallows his wet and hard cock down to the root. 


	9. Friday, February 19, 2021

Patrick’s  _ mise-en-place _ is perfect. 

_ Obviously _ , David captions his Instagram story. 

He’s trying to stay out of Patrick’s way, but he’s just so tickled pink that Patrick agreed to switch roles this week, and he can’t get over how fucking adorable Patrick is with the apron tied on his waist, and the way Patrick has to use his fine motor skills to cut all those vegetables is  _ just really working for him _ . 

With everything laid out on the kitchen island, David can see Patrick feels confident in his ability to pull it all together. But it turns out omelette ribbons are far more complicated than the directions would have led Patrick to believe. Either that, or he grossly mis-overestimated his culinary skill, because David has watched him go from seemingly effortless preparation to soul-crushing defeat to tentative hope right back to rock bottom, all within a matter of minutes. 

In the end, the bowl looks a mess. 

_ It all ends up in the same place *shrug* _ , David captions the final picture. 

And it turns out, it is quite tasty, though definitely not something one would serve company.

///

Patrick Brewer is not accustomed to failure. Or, even, really mediocre success. Knowing this, David keeps a close eye on his husband as they pick through their soba bowls. Conversation is a little clipped, though polite, and they finish their dinner quickly before retiring to the couch.

With a sigh, Patrick flops down perpendicular to David, and David immediately pulls Patrick’s socked feet onto his lap. Wordlessly, he tugs each sock off, tossing them to the side, and starts rubbing Patrick’s feet gently. He works the knots out of Patrick’s soles and moves up to his calves, and the sigh that escapes from Patrick tells David his ministrations are working. 

“Wanna take a bath, honey?” David asks softly. He knows Patrick is probably thinking he’s ruined the mood for tonight, but David Rose always has a back up plan. 

Patrick flexes his toes under David’s hand as he thinks about it. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

///

David leaves Patrick on the couch as he draws a warm bath. He adds lavender and clary sage salts, two relaxing scents, also known for their aphrodisiac properties. He swirls his hand in the water, ensuring even spread, before calling to his husband down the stairs. 

Patrick steps into the bathroom, still looking dejected. David takes him by the hand leading him near the tub. Crowding into his husband’s space, he mouths at Patrick’s neck, moving up to the sensitive skin behind his ear. On the left side, the side that has always driven Patrick crazy. 

David’s deft hands undo Patrick’s button-up, sliding it off his shoulders and letting it fall onto the ground, and immediately moving to his white undershirt, tugging it over his head. He makes quick work of Patrick’s jeans, helping his husband to balance as he steps out of them, and toes off his socks. 

Patrick looks shy, standing in their bathroom, naked. There’s goosebumps on his skin, reacting to the chill in the air, but he looks expectantly at David, then to the bath, and back to David. 

David takes the hint and quickly strips. He steps into the tub, and extends a hand to Patrick who joins him in the warm water.  David settles into the jacuzzi tub with his back against the jets and pulls Patrick to sit between his legs. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s middle, holding him close. 

Within minutes of sinking into the warm water, there’s a sheen of sweat along Patrick’s hairline and David mouths at the nape of his neck, whispering his adoration for his husband into the soft hairs. He unclasps his fingers, letting his hands roam up Patrick’s chest, feeling the hard planes of his chest and tweaking a nipple. Patrick lets out a satisfying sigh, settling his back against David’s chest. 

“Let me take care of you, honey,” David murmurs into Patrick’s temple.

David’s right hand moves down to brush Patrick’s belly. David not-so-secretly loves how Patrick feels a little soft there when he’s seated and relaxed. Beneath the soft flesh, he can feel the muscles developed from hours at the gym, and he enjoys that almost as much, but there’s something so vulnerable about knowing your partner’s body all ways, including when they’re not standing their straightest, flexing, or pulling themselves up to a bar over and over again. 

He teases a trail down Patrick’s abdomen, and it’s no surprise that Patrick is already hard. He lets out a gasp when David’s hand brushes his erection. David’s left hand comes down to wrap around Patrick’s cock, giving it a few appreciative strokes, and Patrick’s head drops back against David’s shoulder. 

David nudges Patrick forward, creating space for him to move in front of his husband. He gently takes each one of Patrick’s arms and braces them on the side of the tub. “Hold,” he says softly. 

He taps Patrick’s ass, encouraging him to let his body float in the water. 

Patrick’s cock bobs above the water, perfectly situated for David, who captures it in his mouth. 

He cups Patrick’s ass with one hand, while gripping the base of his cock in the other, as he works him over and over and over until Patrick is gasping, choking out David’s name, and coming down his throat. David gentles him through the aftershocks with his mouth before places his hands on Patrick's hips and lowering him back into the water. 


	10. Friday, February 26, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok, this is later than usual, but....pandemic!
> 
> While I was certainly thinking of a particular Mexican Breakfast, there isn't a recipe to go with.  
> So, I've included a link to many possible breakfasts.
> 
> POV switch at the ///

The faint sounds of chopping, the clanging of pans and his husband cursing wake Patrick a little before even his alarm is set to go off. He dons his robe and slippers, and heads downstairs, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“What’s going on?” Patrick asks, his voice still hoarse.

David’s head snaps up and his lips quirk in a bitten on smile. “Breakfast.”

Patrick moves into David’s space, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He peeks over David’s shoulder, seeing the meal taking shape on the plates on the counter. “This looks impressive,” he murmurs, nuzzling into David’s warm neck. “What is it?” David’s arms squeeze Patrick’s shoulders before the two separate and David points out of the various components of a Mexican Breakfast.

“...and cilantro sour cream,” he finishes. “I tried to replicate this breakfast I had once while I was waiting for a fake Swiss passport to print for Alexis at a restaurant in Guadalajara.”

Patrick just shakes his head. Even after three and a half years, he still hasn’t heard every Rose-sibling story. 

“Well, it looks delicious,” Patrick hums happily, as David carefully removes the soft-poached eggs from the pan, draining them, and placing them delicately on the tortillas. He leans into it as David kisses his temple. “Good energy for your hockey finale tonight,” David chirps.

“Championship.”

Patrick knows he knows. They do this dance every time.

“I know.”

///

There are two versions of post-sports Patrick, and on any given sports-day, David is mentally prepared for both. All he needs is a signal via text as to the outcome of the game, and he springs into action before his husband gets home. 

There’s Pouty Patrick when his team suffers a loss. Pouty Patrick benefits from David joining him in the shower to provide a scalp massage and shampooing, gentle soaping of his body with the softest shower pouf, and a tender towel-drying before being led to bed and tucked in as the little spoon. If Pouty Patrick is in the mood for sex, it’s slow and focused, usually quieter and followed up by a lot of  _ I love yous _ and soft kisses. 

And then, there’s Victory Patrick. Victory Patrick vibrates with testosterone, adrenaline and endorphin filled energy. In theory, Victory Patrick would like David to join him in the shower, but after nearly giving David a concussion once with his enthusiastic thrusting pushing David perilously close to the subway tile, they’d since decided it was best if Patrick shower on his own and channel all of that vim and vigour in the bedroom where it was safe. Victory Patrick is  _ always _ up for sex. In fact, there’s a good chance that if Victory Patrick gets home early enough to thwart Responsible Business Patrick from taking over, he’s going to want to go more than once. Just the  _ thought _ of sex with Victory Patrick ratchets up David’s heartbeat because it’s always a flurry of shucked clothes, desperate hands and mouths, and thrusts that nail David in all the right places until he’s coming with a shout between them. There’s still the  _ I love yous _ and the soft kisses in the afterglow, but it’s pretty short-lived since Victory Patrick also has a tendency to crash hard. 

Tonight, David isn’t really sure which version he’d prefer. It’s been a long week - the end of February always seems to drag, and the looming volatility of March weather doesn’t help - so he could really go either way. He waits patiently, scrolling social media and texting with Stevie until he receives a message from Patrick. 

Patrick Brewer-Rose  
  
**Today** 7:42 PM  
CITY CHAMPS!!  
  
Just gonna grab a quick beer and snacks with the team  
  
That’s great, honey!  
  
Let me know when you're on your way  
Will do. Love you.  
  
Love you too, champ ;)  
  


An hour later, Victory Patrick bursts through the back door, dropping his hockey gear in the mudroom, passing through the kitchen for a quick kiss before heading upstairs to the shower. He’s got that look of determination that David loves, and he can’t wait to see Patrick has in mind for tonight. 

David undresses, lays a towel out on the bed, and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Patrick is taking longer than usual in the shower. 

Finally, he emerges, steam pouring out from the ensuite, looking deliciously pink and warm, with a towel wrapped around his hips. He’s towel drying his hair, those luscious curls springing in all directions. 

David’s hard almost immediately, and he can’t resist the urge to take himself in hand and stroke slowly, as Patrick finishes with his hair, drops the towel, and stalks towards the bed. 

David moves his hand as Patrick crawls on top of him, wordlessly capturing David’s lips in a bruising kiss. “We won,” he murmurs in the space between them.

“Mmmm, I can tell,” David affirms, chasing his husband’s soft lips once again. 

Patrick indulges David for a moment, slipping his tongue in between David’s lips, tracing the line of his teeth, before nipping David’s bottom lip and pulling back. “Did you check the spreadsheet?” 

David nods. It’s a habit now, after several weeks of Friday treats.

“Can I propose an amendment?” Patrick asks, still so close he’s a little cross-eyed.

David fumbles for his phone, unlocking it and passing it to Patrick, who pulls up the database of sexual positions they’ve been using a lot. Instead of  _ Lotus _ , which was originally in the spreadsheet, Patrick points to  _ Bodyguard _ . 

“I thought we were going to lose,” he explains. “And  _ Lotus  _ would be what -”

“What Pouty Patrick would want,” David finishes his sentence for him. 

“Yeah. Exactly. Wait, what did you call me?” 

David distracts his husband with a languid kiss. “Don’t worry about it, honey. How about you fuck me now?”

Patrick mouths at David’s neck. David feels him shake his head. “Fuck  _ me _ ,” Patrick whispers, nibbling on David’s earlobe. “I got myself ready for you.”

Well, that explains the extended duration of Patrick’s shower. 

David growls, pushing Patrick off of him, and scrambling to get off the bed to retrieve the lube from the bedside table. Patrick scoots off the bed, taking a quick inventory of surfaces upon which he can brace himself. The tall dresser seems the most sturdy, and David watches as his husband plants his hands on top and steps back, elongating his body, and pushing his ass out expectantly. 

David steps behind him, placing the lube on top of the dresser, running his hands up Patrick’s sides and around to tweak his nipples, earning a sharp inhale. One hand stays wrapped around Patrick’s torso, while the other slips between his ass cheeks. Sure enough, Patrick is wet, and relaxed, and ready. 

David reaches over Patrick’s shoulder for the lube, opening it with one hand, and drawing a line up his throbbing erection and drizzling a generous amount on Patrick’s hole. He recaps it, and tosses it aside. Patrick starts shimmying his hips left and right impatiently, making small frustrated sounds. 

David presses a kiss between Patrick’s shoulder blades, before gripping the base of his cock, and lining up with Patrick’s entrance. He slides in easily, and Patrick arches his back with a satisfied groan. 

David’s thrusts start slow, but he knows what Patrick wants, and he soon builds to a quicker rhythm. Patrick pushes back to meet David’s forward momentum, slamming his ass against David’s pelvis. “Come on, David,” he pants, and David picks up the pace. 

It’s tough to tell who is making what sounds, but the rising crescendo of their cries of pleasure drown out the slap of skin on skin. Patrick’s hips thrust back with more urgency. 

“Da-aaavid,” he whines. “ _Rail me, David_!”

David starts moving at a relentless clip, but Patrick keeps up, as though he’s trying to take David impossibly deeper. David slides a hand up Patrick’s chest and to the back of his head, passing under his armpit and trapping Patrick’s arm in place as David’s fingers tangle firmly in Patrick’s curls. He tugs, and Patrick stands straight arching into the touch. Holding Patrick in place by the hair and the hips, David works in and out. He can tell Patrick is close to needing release.

“Fuck!” Patrick cries, reaching down between his legs to tug as his aching cock. It takes all of four pulls before he’s coming, his hips bucking so wildly that David nearly slips out. David slows all movement as Patrick shudders and shakes through his orgasm. When he tries to pull out, Patrick whines and rocks back and forth a little, his hand still moving lightly on his semi-hard cock. And  _ oh, _ Victory Patrick appears to have brought his twin brother Pushing the Limits Patrick. 

David knows there’s no way Patrick is going to come again so soon, but he also knows sometimes Patrick likes a little over-stimulation. It’s like a game for his husband, who likes to edge himself, or find that sweet spot between pleasure and pain with continued stimulation after an orgasm. And well, who is David to deny him? He starts thrusting back into Patrick, who is making the most delicious sounds as he languidly slides his thumb up over the head of his cock. 

With the sight of his gorgeous husband taking what he needs, it doesn’t take long before David is coming and collapsing onto Patrick’s back, withdrawing himself from Patrick’s body gently. 

They remain that way for a few minutes, both catching their breath. Then, Patrick turns in David’s arms and kisses him sweetly, and David knows that Victory Patrick has now taken his leave, and he has his post-sex Cuddly Patrick back. 


	11. Friday, March 5, 2021

David runs his hands up and down Patrick’s sides as he lowers himself slowly onto David’s erection. It’s been awhile since Patrick has ridden him, and David has forgotten how it just feels like he is so much deeper inside his husband this way, and how incredible it is when Patrick squeezes those powerful thighs together as he gets settled on top of David’s hips. 

Once Patrick is comfortable, David uses his grip on Patrick’s ass for leverage, sitting up and bringing his legs close in a partial cross. David feels Patrick grab onto his shoulders for stability, as he wraps his legs around David’s lower back, hooking his ankles together. The change in angle shifts how David is positioned inside Patrick, and it elicits a gasp from Patrick as he tips forward wrapping his arms around David’s upper body. 

David feels an irrepressible giggle start to bubble inside his chest. He tries so very hard to stifle it, but it bursts out, louder than he would have anticipated. 

Patrick pulls back for a moment, looking at David with a raised eyebrow. “David?”

Between giggles, David manages to choke out “It’s...just...you’re...like...an..an…”

“What, David?”

“Adorable koala!” David wheezes out, the giggles winning out over intelligible speech. 

He feels Patrick’s strong arms wrap around his torso again, pressing them chest to chest. Patrick starts rocking against David’s body, and the giggles turn into gasps. Urgent kisses up from David’s collarbone to behind his ear obliterate any thoughts of arboreal herbivorous marsupials.

“It’s just you made my favourite, baby,” Patrick murmurs hotly, nipping at David’s earlobe, “and if there’s anything I love more than having your dick in my ass, it’s quesadillas with jalapenos.” 

He mispronounces quesadillas and jalapenos, because he knows David can’t resist, except David wants to resist, but Patrick is smirking against his skin, waiting, rocking gently back and forth and - 

“Okay! You  _ know _ it’s KAY-SUH-DEE-YAH and HAL-A-PEEN-YO!” David gives in. 

The smirk against his skin turns into a wide smile, and the rocking becomes desperate. When Patrick starts whimpering, David reaches between them and wraps a hand around Patrick’s cock, giving him something to thrust into as he rocks back and forth. Patrick’s whimpers turn into a rising crescendo of  _ oh my god _ and  _ David _ and  _ fuck!  _ As he comes over David’s fist. The clench of Patrick’s body throws David over the edge, as he comes, gasping Patrick’s name, holding his adorable-koala-troll of a husband close. 

They separate gingerly. They are after all, nearly [redacted] years old, and the sounds their knees make as they straighten out proves it. David makes grabby hands, but Patrick scoots off the bed.

“Where are you going?” David whines.

“I’m a koala, David,” Patrick grins. “You know. Eats, shoots, and leaves?”

David faceplants into the pillow with a groan. Lifting his head, he calls out to his husband before he leaves the room, “Ok, you  _ KNOW,  _ that’s a PANDA BEAR, Patrick!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See [ Eats, Shoots, and Leaves ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eats,_Shoots_%26_Leaves)

**Author's Note:**

> Patrick has graciously provided view-only access to readers [here](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1KQrlPVNznTjA_JAYkRYKRE8WKLG7HCwch2124N4SKPg/edit?usp=sharing). The rainbow may not work on mobile. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cheesecurdsgravyandfries).


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